“The situation has been explained to Miss Nichols,” he continues. “She’s upset, could use a friend.”
Silent, I turn away from him. Dior has Clay. I’ll only make things worse for her.
He sighs. “Tomorrow, your training starts again. You will not hide here. You will practice with me until you’ve decoded your Key and have full use of your Light.”
“What if I can’t?” I rub the number brands on my arm.
He strides over, crouches in front of me and gives my chin a gentle tap. “You can. You will.”
Will I? Another crack in the ice. No, no, no. My eyes burn. I press my lips together to contain a whimper.
He places a ring in my palm. A very unusual ring. “She wanted you to have this. A six-shot pinfire cylinder that can be fired straight from your hand. Notice the notch on one side.”
I tremble as I slip the ring on my index finger and hug it close to my chest.
“Her grandfather gifted her with the ring before his Second-death, along with a message. So often we are given the tools to fight against evil but fail to use them. Use this.” Levi pats my shoulder. “Joy is strength, Miss Lockwood, and you need to find yours.”
My eyes burn hotter. “How? Meredith died today.”
“Yes, and you are parted. For now. But true joy isn’t a state of mind or even a feeling. It’s a weapon you wield. It stands up to fear and says No. You won’t come near me. It butts heads with defeat and says I can do anything, despite the odds. You have it inside you, desperate for release, but you must choose to see your situation through its eyes. You must be diligent and watch over your land. Pull the weeds—grief and sorrow—when they try to grow.”
I scrub a hand down my face. “Why did you send Meredith to battle? You had to know she would—”
“We didn’t. We told her to stay in Troika. She disobeyed.”
The news shrivels my insides. I’m looking for someone to blame, aren’t I? But our present will always be the sum total of decisions made in our past.
“I think it’s time we ask ourselves the hard question, Levi. What if I’m not a Conduit? What if I’m a time bomb waiting to blow? Just...” I motion to the door a second time, my arm shaking. “Go. Please.”
“I’m leaving.” He straightens and holds out his hand. “But you’re coming with me. You’re going to experience an Exchange.”
Of course I am. “I’m being punished.”
“The Exchange isn’t always about punishment, Miss Lockwood. See the battle through Meredith’s eyes, begin to heal.”
I lick my lips as dread bubbles up inside me. I’ve witnessed someone else’s Exchange, and the experience scarred me.
“Come,” he says, waving his fingers.
I know I have the right to refuse him. Free will. But I place my hand in his. This is something I deserve. A non-punishment punishment.
He tugs me to my feet and ushers me into the hallway, where Kayla is waiting, a blue robe draped over her arm. She’s fighting tears as she fits the material over my shoulders, and she won’t meet my gaze.
She blames me. She must.
Neither of us speaks. There’s a ball of sorrow stuck in my throat.
She doesn’t follow us from the cathedral.
After taking two Gates, we end up in the Temple of Temples. For the first time, the entire section of the city is emptied out.
“Why aren’t we in the Garden of Exchange?” I ask softly.
“This Exchange is a gift. We go to the giver.”
In the back of the Waft of Incense, doors open. Tremors sweep through me as we enter the Great Throne room. The air is sweetly scented air, almost intoxicating.
Two creatures fly overhead, drawing us deeper inside. Both have a single head with a different face on every side. A man, a lion, a ram and an eagle. Both have two sets of wings. One set arches over a pair of wide shoulders while the other set covers the groin area. One wears gold armor, the other silver.
My gaze returns to their wings. At first glance the feathers look like a peacock’s, but the ends...a human eye tips every single one. I gasp. Those eyes watch me.
The creatures dance around seven towering lamp stands, and I know without asking the stands represent different cities in the realm. Two glow brighter than others, and the reason hits me with the force of a jackhammer. Seven cities, seven Conduits needed.
The princess and I are working overtime, being drained faster than we should, two women doing the job of seven.
A puzzle to work out another day.
Marble steps lead to two alabaster columns. Between the columns are thrones. A rainbow arcs behind both, and crimson-colored water flows from the feet of the smaller one, down the stairs and through the center of the entire room. Just like the Veil of Wings.
A man dressed in dented armor sits in the smaller throne. Light shines from him, the most glorious Light. I know I’ve met the Secondking, Eron, Prince of Doves and firstborn of the Firstking, but this feels like the first time. I’m still in awe of him.
His beautiful eyes peer at me with sympathy I don’t deserve. The ice melts. Tears finally pour down my cheeks, leaving stinging tracks in their wake.
As long as he’s been alive, as many people as he’s lost, he probably understands grief better than anyone.
He is the essence of Troika itself; in one glance, there is no doubt he is everything the realm represents. Love. Forgiveness. Strength. Equality. And that armor...he is also a warrior, something I hadn’t known. He fights alongside his people. He fights for his people.
Silent, I turn away from him. Dior has Clay. I’ll only make things worse for her.
He sighs. “Tomorrow, your training starts again. You will not hide here. You will practice with me until you’ve decoded your Key and have full use of your Light.”
“What if I can’t?” I rub the number brands on my arm.
He strides over, crouches in front of me and gives my chin a gentle tap. “You can. You will.”
Will I? Another crack in the ice. No, no, no. My eyes burn. I press my lips together to contain a whimper.
He places a ring in my palm. A very unusual ring. “She wanted you to have this. A six-shot pinfire cylinder that can be fired straight from your hand. Notice the notch on one side.”
I tremble as I slip the ring on my index finger and hug it close to my chest.
“Her grandfather gifted her with the ring before his Second-death, along with a message. So often we are given the tools to fight against evil but fail to use them. Use this.” Levi pats my shoulder. “Joy is strength, Miss Lockwood, and you need to find yours.”
My eyes burn hotter. “How? Meredith died today.”
“Yes, and you are parted. For now. But true joy isn’t a state of mind or even a feeling. It’s a weapon you wield. It stands up to fear and says No. You won’t come near me. It butts heads with defeat and says I can do anything, despite the odds. You have it inside you, desperate for release, but you must choose to see your situation through its eyes. You must be diligent and watch over your land. Pull the weeds—grief and sorrow—when they try to grow.”
I scrub a hand down my face. “Why did you send Meredith to battle? You had to know she would—”
“We didn’t. We told her to stay in Troika. She disobeyed.”
The news shrivels my insides. I’m looking for someone to blame, aren’t I? But our present will always be the sum total of decisions made in our past.
“I think it’s time we ask ourselves the hard question, Levi. What if I’m not a Conduit? What if I’m a time bomb waiting to blow? Just...” I motion to the door a second time, my arm shaking. “Go. Please.”
“I’m leaving.” He straightens and holds out his hand. “But you’re coming with me. You’re going to experience an Exchange.”
Of course I am. “I’m being punished.”
“The Exchange isn’t always about punishment, Miss Lockwood. See the battle through Meredith’s eyes, begin to heal.”
I lick my lips as dread bubbles up inside me. I’ve witnessed someone else’s Exchange, and the experience scarred me.
“Come,” he says, waving his fingers.
I know I have the right to refuse him. Free will. But I place my hand in his. This is something I deserve. A non-punishment punishment.
He tugs me to my feet and ushers me into the hallway, where Kayla is waiting, a blue robe draped over her arm. She’s fighting tears as she fits the material over my shoulders, and she won’t meet my gaze.
She blames me. She must.
Neither of us speaks. There’s a ball of sorrow stuck in my throat.
She doesn’t follow us from the cathedral.
After taking two Gates, we end up in the Temple of Temples. For the first time, the entire section of the city is emptied out.
“Why aren’t we in the Garden of Exchange?” I ask softly.
“This Exchange is a gift. We go to the giver.”
In the back of the Waft of Incense, doors open. Tremors sweep through me as we enter the Great Throne room. The air is sweetly scented air, almost intoxicating.
Two creatures fly overhead, drawing us deeper inside. Both have a single head with a different face on every side. A man, a lion, a ram and an eagle. Both have two sets of wings. One set arches over a pair of wide shoulders while the other set covers the groin area. One wears gold armor, the other silver.
My gaze returns to their wings. At first glance the feathers look like a peacock’s, but the ends...a human eye tips every single one. I gasp. Those eyes watch me.
The creatures dance around seven towering lamp stands, and I know without asking the stands represent different cities in the realm. Two glow brighter than others, and the reason hits me with the force of a jackhammer. Seven cities, seven Conduits needed.
The princess and I are working overtime, being drained faster than we should, two women doing the job of seven.
A puzzle to work out another day.
Marble steps lead to two alabaster columns. Between the columns are thrones. A rainbow arcs behind both, and crimson-colored water flows from the feet of the smaller one, down the stairs and through the center of the entire room. Just like the Veil of Wings.
A man dressed in dented armor sits in the smaller throne. Light shines from him, the most glorious Light. I know I’ve met the Secondking, Eron, Prince of Doves and firstborn of the Firstking, but this feels like the first time. I’m still in awe of him.
His beautiful eyes peer at me with sympathy I don’t deserve. The ice melts. Tears finally pour down my cheeks, leaving stinging tracks in their wake.
As long as he’s been alive, as many people as he’s lost, he probably understands grief better than anyone.
He is the essence of Troika itself; in one glance, there is no doubt he is everything the realm represents. Love. Forgiveness. Strength. Equality. And that armor...he is also a warrior, something I hadn’t known. He fights alongside his people. He fights for his people.
